he had first encountered the two Nighthawks. Pointing toward the intersection, he asked, ‘Is there a metal ladder nearby?’
‘Three that can be used.’ He indicated their locations.
‘Thanks again, Tolly. Now, quickly, carry my message to Alvarny.’
The old tofsman waded away into a large tunnel, and Jimmy began his inspection of the nearest ladder. It was rusty and dangerous, as was the second, but the third was newly repaired and firmly anchored in the stones. Jimmy quickly climbed to the top and examined the trapdoor above.
It was wood and therefore part of a building floor. Jimmy considered his position relative to Teech’s Tannery. If his sense of direction wasn’t off, he was under the building he had thought likely to be the Nighthawks’ hideout. He listened at the trap for a long minute, hearing nothing.
Gently he pushed upward, peeking through the tiny crack made by the rising door. Directly before his nose was a pair of boots, crossed at the ankles. Jimmy froze. When the feet didn’t move, he pushed the trap an inch higher. The feet in the boots belonged to a nasty-looking customer who was sound asleep, a half-empty bottle clutched tightly to his chest. From the cloying odour in the room, Jimmy knew the man had been drinking paga – a potent brew, heavily spiced and laced with a perfume-sweet mild narcotic, imported from Kesh. Jimmy chanced a quick glance about. Aside from the sleeping sentry the room was empty, but faintly heard voices came from the single door in the nearby wall.
Jimmy drew a silent breath and noiselessly emerged from the trap, avoiding touching the sleeping guard. He moved with a single step to the door and listened. The voices were faint. A tiny crack in the wooden door allowed Jimmy to peek through.
He could see only the back of one man and the face of another. From the manner in which they were speaking, it was clear there were others in the room as well, and from the sound of movement, some number of them, perhaps a dozen. Jimmy glanced about and nodded to himself. This was the headquarters of the Nighthawks. And these men were Nighthawks, beyond doubt. Even if he hadn’t seen the ebon hawk on the man he had killed, those in the next room were nothing like the common folk of Fish Town.
Jimmy wished he could better scout the building, for there were at least a half-dozen other rooms, but the restless sounds of the sleeping man alerted the former thief that time was quickly running out. The false Prince would be inside the Palace soon, and while Jimmy could run down the streets whereas the false Arutha had to slog through the sewers, it would be a close thing who would be at the palace first.
Jimmy quietly left the door and moved back to the trap. He gently lowered it overhead. As he reached a point halfway between the trap and the sewer, he heard voices from directly overhead. ‘Matthew!’
Jimmy’s heart leaped as the other voice said, ‘What!’
‘If you’ve drunk yourself asleep, I’ll have your eyes for dinner.’
The other voice answered irritably, ‘I only closed my eyes for a minute, just as you walked in, and don’t threaten me or the crows will have your liver.’
Jimmy heard the trap being lifted, and without hesitation swung himself around to the side of the ladder. He hung in midair, only one hand and boot on the small rungs as he flattened himself against the wall, barely holding on to scant hand- and footholds in the rough stones. He trusted his black clothing in the gloom – and the fact the eyes of those above would take time to adjust to the darkness of the sewer – to hide him. A light was shone from above and Jimmy averted his face, the only part of him not black, and held his breath. For a long, terror-filled moment he hung in space, arm and leg burning with fatigue with the strain of holding himself motionless. Not daring to look upward, he could only imagine what the two Nighthawks above might be doing. Even at this moment they could be drawing weapons. A crossbow could be aiming at his skull and in an instant he could be dead, his life blotted out without warning. He heard feet scuffling about and laboured breathing above where he hung and then a voice said, ‘See? Nothing. Now, leave it, or you’ll be floating with the other garbage.’
Jimmy almost flinched when the trap was slammed close above him. He silently counted to ten, then quickly scampered down the ladder to the water and moved off.
With the bickering voices fading behind, Jimmy headed towards Teech’s Tannery, and the way back to the palace.
The night was half over, but the celebration was still in full swing. Jimmy hurried through the palace, ignoring the startled people he passed. This apparition in black was a most uncommon sight. He was battered, an angry lump decorating his visage, and he reeked of the sewer. Twice Jimmy asked the guards about the Prince’s whereabouts and was informed the Prince was en route to his private quarters.
Jimmy passed a startled pair of familiar faces as Gardan and Roald the mercenary stood speaking. The Knight-Marshal of Krondor looked tired from a long day yet unfinished and Laurie’s boyhood friend looked half-drunk. Since returning from Moraelin, Roald had been a guest in the palace, though he still refused Gardan’s constant offer of a place in Arutha’s guard. Jimmy said, ‘You’d better come along.’ Both took the boy at his word and fell into step. Jimmy said, ‘You won’t believe what they’re up to this time.’ Neither man had to be told who ‘they’ were. Gardan had just informed Roald of the Upright Man’s warning. And both men had faced the Nighthawks and Black Slayers of Murmandamus at Arutha’s side before.
Rounding the corner, the three found Arutha about to open the door to his quarters. The Prince halted, waiting for the three to come close, an expression of open curiosity on his face.
Gardan said, ‘Highness, Jimmy’s discovered something.’
Arutha said, ‘Come along. I have a few things I must attend to at once, so you’ll have to be brief.’
The Prince pushed open the door and led them through the antechamber to his private council room. As he reached for the door, it opened.
Roald’s dark eyes widened. Before them stood another Arutha. The Prince in the door looked at them, saying, ‘What …?’ Suddenly both Aruthas were drawing weapons. Roald and Gardan hesitated; what their eyes told them was impossible. Jimmy watched as the two Princes engaged each other in combat, the ‘second’ Arutha, the one who had come from within, leaping back into the council chamber, gaining room to fight. Gardan shouted for guards and in a moment a full dozen were approaching the door.
Jimmy watched closely. The resemblance was uncanny. He knew Arutha as well as he knew anyone else in the Palace, but while the two men fought a furious duel, he couldn’t tell them apart. The impostor even fought with the same skill with the blade as the Prince. Gardan said, ‘Seize them both.’
Jimmy shouted, ‘Wait! If you grab the wrong one first, the impostor may kill him.’ Gardan instantly countermanded his own order.
The two combatants thrust and parried, moving about the room. Each man’s face was set in a mask of grim determination. Then Jimmy raced across the room, no hesitation marking his lunge for one of the men. Striking out with his dirk, Jimmy knocked him backward. Guards flooded into the room, seizing the other combatant as Gardan ordered. The Knight-Marshal was uncertain what Jimmy was doing, but he was taking no chances. Both men would be held until the matter was sorted out.
Jimmy grappled on the floor with one of the Aruthas, who struck out with a backhand blow, stunning Jimmy and knocking him aside. That Arutha began to rise to his feet, then halted as Roald levelled his sword point at the man’s throat. The man on the floor shouted, ‘The boy’s gone mad. Guards! Seize him!’ Then, as he rose, he clutched at his side. His hand came away
